Page 95 of Truck Hard

A moan escapes me as his lips trail down my neck, finding that sensitive spot just below my ear. My fingers clench in his hair, holding him there.

“God, the sounds you make.” He groans against my skin. “Drive me crazy.”

Heat pools low in my belly at his words. I shift in his lap, drawing another groan from him as I press against his growing hardness.

His hands find the zipper of my dress, pausing there. “Is this okay?”

The care in his voice, the way he always makes sure I’m comfortable, makes tears prick at my eyes. “Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”

He lowers the zipper with agonizing slowness, pressing kisses to each inch of skin as it’s revealed. When the dress pools around my waist, his hands smooth over my bare back, tracing the line of my spine.

I reach for the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers. He helps me, shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal the muscled planes of his chest. The injury where Charlie cut him is still red, but it’s healing. It will definitely scar. I can’t resist running my hands over his skin, feeling the way his muscles jump under my touch.

“You’re gorgeous,” I murmur, pressing kisses to his collarbone.

His hands tighten on my hips. “Look who’s talking.”

He lays me back on the blanket with infinite care, hovering over me like he can’t quite believe I’m real. The way he looks at me—like I’m something precious, something to be cherished—makes my heart ache.

His lips trace a path down my body, leaving fire in their wake. He takes his time with my breasts, alternating between gentle kisses and light nips until I’m arching into his touch, desperate for more.

“Patience,” he murmurs against my skin. “Let me love you properly.”

His words send a shiver through me. This is so different from what I’m used to—there’s no rush, no demand, just pure devotion in every touch.

He works his way lower, pressing kisses to my ribs, my stomach, the sensitive skin of my hips. His hands push my dress the rest of the way off, leaving me in just my underwear.

I should feel exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I feel beautiful. Desired. Safe.

His fingers trace the edge of my panties, teasing. “May I?”

“Yes.” I gasp.

He slides them down my legs with reverent care, his hands smoothing back up my thighs. When he settles between my legs, I think I might combust from anticipation.

But he doesn’t give me what I want right away. Instead, he presses kisses to my inner thighs, occasionally nipping gently at the sensitive skin. His stubble scrapes deliciously against me, making me squirm.

“Liam,” I whimper. “Please.”

He looks up at me from between my legs, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

The endearment makes me melt. “Your mouth. I need—”

He doesn’t make me finish the sentence. His tongue swipes through my folds, making me cry out. He groans at the taste of me, the vibrations adding to the sensation.

One finger circles my entrance as he focuses on my clit, building the pressure slowly but steadily. When he finally pushes his finger inside, I’m so wet there’s almost no resistance.

“So perfect,” he murmurs against me. “So beautiful like this.”

He adds a second finger, curling them just right as his tongue works magic on my clit. The dual sensation has me writhing, my hands fisting in his hair.

“That’s it.” He encourages. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

The combination of his words, his fingers, and his mouth sends me over the edge. I come with his name on my lips, my body arching off the blanket.

He works me through it gently, only pulling away when I start to twitch from oversensitivity. When he kisses his way back up my body, and covers my mouth with his, I can taste myself on his lips.

“You’re incredible,” he says between kisses.

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